


Peace and Quiet

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, M/M, challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 10:25:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/797360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim has a rough day and thinks he needs some peace and quiet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peace and Quiet

## Peace and Quiet

#### by Spikedluv

Author's website: <http://spikedluv.net>  
Jim and Blair belong to me. *shifty eyes* What do you mean, they don't belong to me?!!  
Written November 17, 2005 for Sentinel Thursday Challenge #117 Memories.  
Minor spoilers for 'My Brother's Keeper'.  
This story is a sequel to: 

* * *

"Hey, Jim," Blair said with a smile as soon as I walked into the loft. He stood at the stove, stirring his homemade sauce. 

"Chief," I said, managing not to growl. 

"We're having spaghetti." 

He said that as if I couldn't smell the sauce from two blocks away, I thought snidely. 

"I picked up a fresh loaf of Italian bread from the bakery, too, so I hope you're hungry." 

I slipped past him to get a beer out of the fridge, and he kept talking. 

"I ran into Pam today at the University; she asked me again if we wanted those tickets. She needs to unload 'em so we need to give her an answer soon. Tomorrow if we can, otherwise she's gonna find someone else. And Naomi called." Blair gave a nervous laugh. "Said she'll be in the area next month and she wants to stop in." 

I didn't say anything, just took a long drink and then held the cold bottle to my forehead. 

Blair opened his mouth to go on, but I interrupted him. "Chief." 

He glanced over as he kept stirring. "Yeah, Jim?" 

"Can we not do this now?" 

"Rough day, huh?" Without waiting for me to answer, he went on. "Got a headache? Need me to rub your head for you?" 

"No, what I really need is some peace and quiet." 

Blair clamped his mouth shut and I felt like a heel as soon as the words were out of my mouth. 

"All right." 

"I just.... I just need a minute to unwind, okay?" 

"Sure, Jim. I'll just let this simmer until we're ready for it." He turned the burner down to low and covered the pot, and then motioned to the room beneath the stairs. "I'm gonna go, uh, grade some papers. You let me know when you want me to put the spaghetti on, okay?" 

And then he moved around the island and disappeared into his room. When the doors clicked shut behind him the silence he left behind was almost oppressive. 

I wanted to call him back out, but I wasn't very good at apologizing. And this would require some major groveling. Something I was in no shape for, not with this headache. I shuffled over to the couch and sat down, then slowly leaned back and tried to relax. But I kept picturing Blair's face when I'd cut him off and pushed him away. 

I squeezed my temples. That head rub Blair had offered sounded really good, but somehow I didn't think that was going to happen. Not that Blair wouldn't do it, because even if I didn't apologize, all I had to do was ask and he'd would. But I was just too stubborn to ask. 

I'll make it up to Blair later, I thought. Maybe offer to go out for ice cream and a walk through the park so he could people-watch and we could play that game where we invented stories about what they were doing there. 

I tipped my head back onto the couch and closed my eyes. A picture of my father immediately popped up and I wondered why, until the memories began to flow behind my eyes like a film reel. My father coming home from work later and later, missing school functions, yelling at Stevie and I for being too loud, and telling us he didn't have time to read with us, or play with us, or whatever it was we'd asked for that night. "I've been working all day and I'm tired and I have a headache," he'd say. "I just need a little peace and quiet, if that's not too much to ask." 

Shit! My eyes shot open and I jerked up, my heart racing. The last thing I wanted was to turn into my father, but it looked like it had already happened. I reached out for the coffee table and made sure there was a coaster there before setting my unfinished beer down. I stood up and ran my hands through my hair and then nervously wiped my palms on my slacks. 

The walk to Blair's room was long and torturous, but I was finally there. I knocked lightly on the glass and heard Blair's answering, "Yeah?" 

I pushed the doors open and leaned against the door frame for support. 

"Was I being too loud?" 

I shook my head, stifling the urge to laugh in case it came out sounding a little bit hysterical. He was grading papers, for fuck's sake, and he had to ask if he was being too loud? 

"No. No, I, uh...." Christ, the words wouldn't come. I ran my hand over my head, brushing through my already mussed hair. 

Blair set the paper he was grading aside and stood up. "Your head still bothering you?" he asked, a worried frown on his face. 

"Some," I replied honestly. 

He took a hesitant step towards me. "Anything I can do?" 

"Yeah. I, uh, I could use a hug," I managed to get out. 

"Okay," Blair said, and suddenly I was enveloped in his arms. God, that felt good. Better than I deserved. 

I returned the hug and said, "And I could use that head rub, if the offer still stands." 

"Of course it does," he said, and started to pull away, but I tightened my arms and wouldn't let him go. 

"I'm sorry," I said. Apologizing wasn't as difficult when I didn't have to look Blair in the eyes. 

Blair started to speak but I shushed him and continued. "I had a really...just a rotten day, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you, and I'm sorry." 

"That's okay, man." 

"No, Blair, it's really not. I don't want to do that. I don't want...." 

"You don't want what?" 

"I don't want to be like my old man." 

"You're not, Jim," Blair said. "You're really, really not. But if it'll make you feel better, you can do the dishes...." 

I laughed, which was his intention, I'm sure, because it was my turn to do the dishes anyway. 

"That's letting me off kinda light, Chief." 

"You didn't let me finish," he said. "I was _going_ to say, for the next week." And then he laughed. 

"But I'll get dishpan hands." 

"Don't worry, Jim, we buy the kind of dish soap that's gentle on your hands." 

It felt good, this teasing that said things were getting back on an even keel between us. 

"There's no way I can get out of this, huh?" 

"There might be," Blair said, and pulled back so he could look me in the eyes, "but you'll have to be really, really good, Jim." 

My entire body tightened at the look in his eyes, the one that said he wanted me, and the deep tone of his voice, and suddenly my headache was gone. 

"I can be really good," I said, breathless. 

"How hungry are you?" he asked. 

I looked him over, taking in the light flush and the dilated pupils, which created a chain reaction in me. "Oh, I am very, _very_ hungry, Chief." 

"Here?" Blair asked, and I looked around his office, cluttered with books and papers and countered with, "Upstairs." 

Blair took my hand and led me towards the stairs. "Come on, let me give you that head rub." 

"Looking forward to it, Chief," I said, adding a wink to make sure he knew that I had another head that needed his attentions. 

Blair laughed brightly and it sounded so much better than the peace and quite I'd thought I wanted. He turned his devastating smile on me. It lit up the entire loft, and my heart, and the tension of the day just melted away. 

* * *

End 

Peace and Quiet by Spikedluv: spikedluv@usadatanet.net  
Author and story notes above.

Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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